Idiot! I forgot to put on that scrap of cloth! I thought in panic. Praise to the Magicians, I suddenly woke up. Lowering my feet down off the table—
Heavens above! So I did fall asleep on the living room table and not in the comfortable bed upstairs, surrounded by eight volumes of the Encyclopedia of the World. What nonsense! No, it wasn’t just nonsense. It looked like a fairly solid storyline for your average B horror movie.
I went upstairs. My knees were trembling. More than anything I was afraid of finding another Max sleeping in my bed. Go figure which one of us was the real one. The bed was empty. With shaking hands I reached for the bottle of Elixir of Kaxar that I’d had the foresight to leave at the head of the bed. I took a gulp, then another. I felt a great deal better. I collapsed onto the bed. Even if I didn’t get any sleep, I could rest a bit, at the very least. But I had to get in touch with Juffin. Luckily, I had something to report to him, as well.
I’m awake, Juffin. Things are pretty bad.
Well, if you’re awake then all is not lost. Come to the Glutton, I’ll treat you to breakfast. In fact, I have some news for you as well.
I’ll be there in an hour. Over and out.
“Over what?”
Over and out. It means: that’s all, this thought-exchange is over.>
Over and out, Juffin repeated with delight.
The Glutton is a truly magical place. Those walls could make anyone feel right at home. I was describing my adventures and starting to relax. That was more than I could say for Juffin, who looked like someone paying a scheduled visit to the dentist’s office.
“So you say that you woke up on the table. That means things are more serious than I thought. I think you should move back to my place for a while. But I am going to spend the night in your bed. Maybe I’ll dream of some horrible thing as well.”
“I have a better idea. How about I sleep at home, and you hold my hand like a kindly nurse?”
“I had a similar idea to begin with, but—”
“But what, Juffin? It’s already happening to me, and the plot is unfolding; but if you stay there, you’ll have to start watching from the first episode, then the second. We’ll lose two days that way.”
“That may be, but I don’t like the way this whole thing is affecting you. I’m afraid you’re still too vulnerable when you’re asleep.”
“Well, that depends on how you look at it. Because I did remember that it was a dream. And I woke up, even though I forgot to put on that scrap you gave me.”
“Oh, but that was very unwise, Max! You can’t neglect things like that. By the way, that ‘little scrap,’ as you call it, is merely the personal kerchief of the Grand Magician of the Order of the Secret Grass.”
“Isn’t he one of those guys whose dried flesh you partake of daily to strengthen your powers?”
Juffin gave a quick laugh and then scowled again.
“I think you got a little carried away with the Kaxar, Max. Your joie de vivre is beginning to frighten me.”
“It scares me, too. So, do you agree to sing me a lullaby?”
“I suppose I could try, though I suspect that the presence of a person awake, especially one as notable as me, might hinder events as they develop.”
“At least I’ll get some sleep. What if we both go to sleep?”
“Yes, I suppose we could try that. Although,” Juffin grew more animated, “who says I have to be in the same room? I can watch you without even leaving my office. It’s settled, then. I think that’s what we should do. But first I’ll spend a night at your house, to be on the safe side.”
“The house is at your disposal. But I only have three bathing pools, remember? Not even that will dissuade you?”
“What lengths wouldn’t one go to for the peaceful well-being of the Unified Kingdom . . . and for one’s own well-being, for that matter! I had a bad feeling about that place from the very beginning; I shouldn’t have let you move into that doghouse at all!”
“It’s all right,” I said, trying to comfort my boss. “When I grow up and I’m big and strong, I’ll learn to take bribes, and then I’ll build a palace for myself on the left bank. What about your news? You said you were going to consult the buriwoks.”
“That’s what I spent half the day doing. I have some news, and it’s rather worrying. It’s just too bad that I didn’t take on this case a couple of years ago. But if it hadn’t been for your dreams, it never would have occurred to me to make a connection between some of the facts that on their own just aren’t very interesting. Let’s go to the Ministry, so you can hear for yourself.”
And we headed straightaway to the Main Archive.
“Lookfi, I’d like to listen again to the information that you gathered today.”
“Of course, Sir Hully. Good day, Sir Max; you’re here early today! They say nothing much has been happening lately.”
Lookfi approached one of the buriwoks.
“Please tell us one more time about the Street of Old Coins, Tatoon.”
It looked to me like the bird had shrugged, as if to say, “I’d rather not repeat the same trivial story twice, but since it’s my job—here we go again.” With that, the buriwok began to recite:
“Information regarding owners of real estate as of Day 208 of the Year 115. Street of Old Coins, house #1. Owner: Ms. Xarista Aag. No criminal record. Lives in the countryside. In the year 109 of the Code Epoch, the house was temporarily leased to the Poedra family. Three dozen years’ rent was paid up front. In the year 112, Gar Poedra lost the Spark and died. His wife, Pita Poedra, and daughter, Xitta, are known to inhabit the premises to the present day. The daughter still suffers from a childhood illness, but does not seek the assistance of specialists and does not leave the house. They live in a reclusive fashion and do not entertain guests. No criminal record.
“House #2. Owner: Kunk Stifan. Lives in the house with two underage sons. His wife, Trita Stifan, died in the year 107. In the year 110, he was suspected of killing the maid, one Pamma Lorras. He was proven innocent and received compensation for damages. A witch-doctor confirmed that his wife died in her sleep of heart disease. Uses the services of a daytime maid and four tutors for the boys. Does not employ full-time help. He was obliged to leave his position at the Ministry of Big Money due to illness at the beginning of this year.
“House #3. Owner: Rogro Zhil, editor-in-chief of the Royal Voice and co-owner of the Echo Hustle and Bustle. His detailed dossier is kept in the archives. He currently lives on Ginger Dream Street in the New City. The house on the Street of Old Coins is neither for rent nor for sale, as the owner is in no need of funds.”
“His dossier is something of an epic poem,” whispered Juffin. “But at the moment that’s not what we are interested in. You may enjoy reading it, though, in your spare time. I highly recommend it.”
Houses #4, #5, #6 . . . All the stories bore a certain resemblance to one another. The inhabitants of the Street of Old Coins turned out to be the most miserable wretches in all of Echo: they got sick, lost their loved ones, and then they died. No criminal records, no suicides, nothing mysterious. But a whole street full of terminally ill widows and orphans? And in Echo, of all places, where your average witch-doctor was nearly capable of bringing the dead back to life! Talk about coincidence.
“House seven,” the bird repeated patiently, “Owner: Tolakan Enn; wife: Feni Enn, no children. In the year 54 of the Code Epoch, the house was left to him by his father, Sir Genelad Enn, the Royal Court’s Chief Supplier. Altogether his inheritance was worth a dozen million crowns.”